Twins on Ice
by Atopos
Summary: America pushed the puck almost lifelessly with his stick. What would happen when he got to the net? Would he be able to defeat Canada, his little brother? He looked up briefly. Canada was watching the puck as well...' Time for the finals. Who'll win?


Atopos - I decided to write this seconds after coming up with the idea. Though, I suppose the idea isn't really mine. It's about the 2010 hockey finals fast approaching; you'd think that as a proud Canadian I'd write more on it, but I haven't exactly watched a lot. I especially liked our first gold, though, the Austrailian (who used to be Canadian) was very pissed off^^. I got the idea while listening to La Vie Boheme (RENT) and thinking about the Simpsons. I though, hey, wouldn't it be cool if the hockey game could end like how Bart and Lisa ended it when they were playing a junior game? The funny thing is Al is like Bart (always trying to up-one his siblings) and Matt is like Lisa (smart, yet shy).

The title also comes from the original title of that Simpsons episode (originally titled 'Lisa on Ice', just in case you wanna know). I own neither the Simpsons nor Hetalia.

Hope there's not a lot of errors in this. My spell-check wasn't working and it was such a great idea that I had to write it quick. Please read and enjoy, and don't take it too seriously.

* * *

**Twins on Ice**

_"Geography has made us neighbors. History has made us friends. Economics has made us partners. And necessity has made us allies. Those whom nature hath so joined together, let no man put asunder."_ – President John F. Kennedy

"_I think the thing you always got to keep in mind, you know, hockey is a game of one-on-one battles._" – Mark Messier

* * *

England watched on as America put on his uniform, his mind elsewhere. He thought of what this match meant, of how much it meant, to both teams. Of course, this happened every Winter Olympics. All events mattered, but none seemed as important as the finals for the men's hockey team. While watching the women play, one could already guess that the Canadians would win overall. The men's were different. You could never tell if America, Canada, Russia, Finland, or Sweden would come out the winner.

It was down to the brothers.

America and Canada, playing on Canadian soil.

Everyone was watching this moment.

And despite America's brave face, you only had to look closer to know that he was shaking underneath that padding. Canada could be a tough opponent when pushed.

"Try not to smack him around too much," England said finally after a deafening silence. That was how he could tell America was feeling nervous since normally that silence would have been filled with America's constant chatter.

America smiled, his lips tight. "Is that your way of saying 'good luck'?"

England shook his head as he leaned against the door frame. "I'm not picking sides. The only reason I'm here is because that bloody wino is watching your brother dress."

"Oh," America looked down at his skates as if he was upset someone was paying Canada attention instead of visiting him, "so, he's getting a good luck grope, huh?"

"Shut up!" England spluttered. He hadn't thought of that. "I just want to tell you to not get slammed around so much! Or to hurt anyone else."

"You think I play dirty? I won't cheat! I'm a hero, Iggy! Hero's always hafta play by the rules!"

With another shake of his head, England left to find his seat. He was sitting next to France, a decision made based on the fact that two people not wearing jerseys should sit together just in-case they got unwanted attention.

------

Canada slowly slid his pads on as he hummed his national anthem. He liked playing goalie; it took the attention away from himself so it could be focused on those who played forward. France was sitting on the bench, watching him thoughtfully with Kumajirou in his lap.

"Are you sure it's safe?" France asked, a tad too sad for someone about to see the greatest game _ever_, Canada thought. "I mean, all those guys will be shooting pieces of rubber at you!"

"They're called pucks," Canada corrected without paying too much attention. "Besides, I've been playing this game for as long as I can remember. Sure, I've been knocked around a few times, but I've had worst."

There was a moment's silence before France spoke up again.

"You'll be playing your brother."

Canada nodded happily. "Oui! This is sort of how we get our frustration out. We always like to challenge each other in games."

The game was about to start and France decided he should leave in order to find his seat, taking with him the squirming teddy bear who wore a Team Canada jersey. Canada stopped him before he could slip out the door.

"You shouldn't worry about me," Canada stated with a bright smile. "I look forward to hockey every year. I love playing against America. He's my biggest competition." He looked down at his skates, turning a bit red. "We don't mean to hurt each other. We play rough and whoever wins gets to gloat about it, but after a few months we act like brothers again. Sometimes we like to bring it up just to bug each other."

France nodded. He certainly thought being slammed around by guys was fun, but being around sharp blades, large wooden sticks, and fast moving rubber just couldn't be.

------

"So," England began when France sat in the seat next to him. The lights were turned down low, spotlights dancing on the ice as the players were coming out from the change rooms. Their voices were drowned out by the cheers and rants from the people surrounding them. "Who are you cheering for?"

"Now, now, I don't think it's fair to pick sides," France replied. "How would you like it if we were the ones fighting and the boys had to decide which person to root for?"

The question was momentarily forgotten as America and Canada both dashed to the side of the rink, waving their arms excitedly at their older brother-figures.

"ENGLAND!" America screamed at the top of his lungs.

Canada followed suit. "ENGLAND! ARE YOU WATCHING?"

"NO! WATCH ME!"

England snorted. "I think I'd manage."

------

The score bounced back and forth. France winced every time someone tried to score on Canada, especially if the man looked especially large. England, though, got into it. He cheered for both sides, which earned him some odd looks. They had been fortunate since Canada had given them some great seats, but unfortunately, it was surrounded by fans of both teams. On one side sat Team Canada fans and on the other were Team USA fans. However, England chose to ignore everything except what was in front of him.

"Whew!" England yelped happily, his eyes sparkling. "Did you see that, France? Canada caught that wonderfully!"

France, though, had his eyes covered. "I don't know how you can watch this. This is barbaric!"

But even Kumajirou was hopping on his lap excitedly. Of course, the bear had been taught to love the sport just as Canada had.

------

The score ended tied in the third period with minutes left. Team USA called a time out, calling for all players to have a pep talk and maybe come up with a plan. Team Canada had come back with a vengeance for their first loss. They had defeated them once, they could do it again.

America grabbed a water bottle as he half-listened to the instructions. He was a forward, the one with the most attention on him. The cheers whenever he stole the puck or snabbed a goal were the loudest. The adrenaline fed his unending ego. Instead of paying attention, though, he watched Canada, the violet-blue eyes hidden behind glasses hidden behind a goalie mask.

He noticed the disappointment whenever someone scored, but then Canada would perk right back up again as if he was saying 'next time, wait until next time'. Then the save would be stupendous. The crowd cheered even louder for Canada's lovely saves. They were on Canada's ice, after all. That was when Canada would smile, a full blush coating his cheeks, and America felt his heart almost plummet as he wondered and skated back towards his own side of the rink.

------

Canada watched his brother gulping down water from his bottle. He was curious as to what they could be planning. Then he saw the coach point his clipboard to America and America nearly choked on his water, and then Canada felt confused. They were planning on passing the puck to America? Yes, that would be perfect. Pass the puck to America. After all, they were brothers. Surely America's brother would have to go easy, right?

No! Canada would prove his worth. Even if they didn't win, if for some reason that puck managed to go in-between his legs or over his head, he would give them a run for their money. He bent low to the ice, trying to take up as much space in front of the net as possible.

Let him try! Canada would not go down easy!

------

The puck was dropped at middle ice, the game starting over. America pushed the puck almost lifelessly with his stick. What would happen when he got to the net? Would he be able to defeat Canada, his little brother? He looked up briefly. Canada was watching the puck as well. Would he be able to save against America's savage attack?

"I hope you're ready, little bro…"

"Please let me save it, please let me save it, please let me save it…"

"'_They are quiet and peaceful…' America read in the journal he found. He thought it over. A plate of warm pancakes dropped onto the table infront of him. 'Oooh,' America began without thanking his brother, 'it's just like the first time when I met a Canadian…!'_

_Canada pointed to the pancakes in front of them. 'You have to pour lots of maple syrup on it!'_

_America nodded, continuing to flip through his book, 'Uuh, yeah.'"_

"This won't hurt, I promise. There's no shame in coming second, Canada…"

"I just wanna be recognized… That's all…"

"'_ARRRGH! YOU'RE TOO WEIRD, AMERICA! You always push too hard!' Canada through the catcher's glove to the ground in frustration. 'How about taking things slowly for a change!?'_

'_You sure?' America smirked. Sometimes his brother was way too much fun to tease. 'No way! YOU'RE JUST TOO SLOW!'_

'_What did you say, you damn bastard~!?' Canada growled. He took aim and tried to punch his brother in the shoulder. America stepped to the side to avoid a hit that would probably hurt more than he cared to admit._

'_Hahaha, now that's slow!'_

_The day ended in both being covered in grass stains from pushing each other down the hill."_

"I won't be able to stand it if he cries…"

"I hope my team forgives me if he wins…"

"_The tiny child opened the door hesitantly when he heard England's voice. Big blue eyes peeked around the corner and they brightened when they spotted the wavy-haired child standing at his big brother's feet__, holding tight on to an over-sized plush polar bear._

_With a gasp America jumped forward in excitement. 'Y-y-your face, it's just like mine…!' He tried to get a good look at it from every angle, but his new friend turned away in embarrassment._

'_H,hi…' the child said just above a whisper. 'I-I'm the British Province of Ca-Canada…'_

_America was rather disappointed. This new child was hardly one he could wrestle with, but he did seem vaguely familiar. It was as if they had lived in the same place for hundreds of years. Now, though, with America's memories of England and this Canada's memories of France, it seemed like everything before their older brothers never existed. _

_Was this really their first meeting? Or had they met somewhere else before?"_

Finally America slid to a stop, right in front of Canada. Canada shot his face a quick look, checking to see if they felt the same way. Nauseated, worried, nervous. They looked around the arena. Both American and Canadian flags were raised, waving in the crowd. Canadians booed Americans. Americans booed Canadians. Over the voices Canada could almost hear the chant 'Eh, Oh Canada! Go!' It normally filled him with pride, but his heart was beating too fast for him to hear it all. It only sounded like a fury of jumbled up voices instead of actual words.

America, his hockey stick raised, turned to the crowd, his blue eyes frantically searching for the two familiar faces of their older brothers. Centre ice, a few rows up, sat England, France, and Kumajirou. France had let go of Kumajirou in order to cover his eyes even more. England had leaned forward, just like the rest of the crowd in anticipation. Kumajriou waved a mini Canadian flag about with his paw.

The brothers faced each other at the same time. Was this what they had come to? They had always helped in each other in times of need. They had the longest undefined border in the world, a testiment to how they truly felt about one another, and this is what their countries ended up doing? Cheering against one another? Saying that they didn't care who won as long as it wasn't the other brother? Pitting brothers against each other in a dangerous?

Canada dropped his stick, his violet eyes teary as he did so. He waited to see what America would do next. America's fingers relaxed, his grip on his stick lax and it dropped to the ice as well. Canada's goalie helmet and gloves followed, as did America's gloves. America removed his glasses and skated towards his little brother.

"We used to be so close," America whispered despite the hissing and booing and raging fans all around them. "What happened?"

"We grew apart, I suppose…" Canada sniffled, turning away. They were both red in the face from the cold. "We both love sports and competing so very much."

America spread his arms wide, unsure of what to do. Canada jumped into them, happy to be in his brother's warmth after so many years. The buzzer rang, signalling that time had run out and the game would have to go into overtime. They left the rink together, even though the crowd had begun screaming for blood behind them.

"Maybe we should finish the game," Canada suggested, looking back at the ice.

America shrugged. "Hey, they brought back up. They can finish without us. Just 'cause I was the best forward and you were an okay goalie--"

Canada sighed, pinching his brother in the side as they continued on in search of their change rooms. They would have to escape as quick as possible if they wanted to avoid being torn to shreds.

------

"Ah," France sighed contently, "now that is how all games should end. No one getting hurt and a little brotherly bonding."

England shot him a look. "Yeah, well, I'll leave you behind to deal with the crowd as they tear everyone apart and break things."

"No! Wait for big brother France! Please, England! Don't leave me behind with these people!"

He nearly forgot poor Kumajirou and had to run to keep up with England.

"What about _our _brotherly bonding!"

"Don't make me toss _you_ onto the ice!"

* * *

- Atopos


End file.
